When I Discover Who I Am
by Magier74
Summary: Loki comes to Midgard to heal after being held prisoner by Thanos and to make amends for his involvement in the invasion of Midgard. After an accident with a magical artifact leaves the Avengers vulnerable, Loki must work with Natasha to repair the damage done and prepare for an approaching threat - Thanos is coming. (Blackfrost) Trigger warnings: torture, suicide
1. Chapter 1

"When I discover who I am, I'll be free."  
― **Ralph Ellison** , **Invisible Man**

 **Chapter 1**

" _You have failed godling."_

 _The cold of the abyss surrounded him as he stood before the creature known as The Other, hands bound tightly behind his back. The expanse of stars in every direction only served to emphasize that he was small, insignificant – alone. Even his magic had abandoned him in this place, so far from Yggdrasil's branches, deeming him unworthy and denying its warmth._

 _Failure was his only companion._

" _I promised that you would wish for something as sweet as pain."_

 _Strange that he could find no words – even his silver tongue failed him. Not for the first time he wished that Odin had left him to die as an infant on Jotunheim so long ago. It would have been a mercy. It would have spared so many so much pain._

" _You will beg for death," the creature hissed as it circled behind him. "And scream for me."_

 _The Other kicked his knee joint from behind, causing his legs to fold and pitch him forward. Without his hands to break the fall, his body slammed against the barren ground, face grating against the course rock._

" _And when you have reached the brink of death, we will allow you to heal, and start again from the beginning."_

 _A heel came down on his head, grinding his already skinned face further into the jagged rock. It was better to not anticipate, to not tense, but he could not help it. He knew what was coming. He remembered the pain that had driven him to promise the Tesseract – anything to leave this place. The creature drove a spike down into each shoulder, impaling him into the ground, but he knew the worst was to come. As the Other activated the device, fire and lightning burned like lava down his spine. There was nothing to offer this time – no deal to make. The abuse would continue – his own personal Hel. His body convulsed wildly as the smell of charred flesh singed his nostrils, and Loki did scream as he futilely reached for magic that would not come._

Natasha Romanov stepped into the elevator, letting out a deep sigh as it started its lazy climb to the upper levels of the tower. Her plans had been simple – home, hot bath, vodka, and bed. It really wasn't too much to ask after being dragged by a small Cessna along a runway. Of course, Fury had different plans. The spy readjusted her grip on the heavy, lead-lined case she carried, grimacing as the movement strained her injured ribs. If she hadn't been just as curious about the mystery object, she might have told Fury where he could shove it. The elevator arrived at the correct floor, cheerfully chiming its arrival as the doors slid open.

Banner was usually the most reclusive in the tower, but since returning to Earth, Loki had kept mostly to himself. It had been a surprise for everyone when Thor had arrived four months earlier with his errant little brother in tow. The would-be conqueror of Earth had been quiet, choosing to stare at the ground rather than make eye contact with anyone – a far cry from the arrogant madman they all remembered. Fury was indignant at first, but Thor informed them that at his trial, it had been determined that Loki was not acting of his own free will when he invaded Midgard. With deep sincerity, Thor had pledged that his brother was making good progress in recovering from his madness, was here to help and make amends, and would be … good. Fury ultimately had to accept. Earth was now an apparent target, and SHIELD could not afford to offend the allies they had in Asgard. So, Loki had taken up residence in the tower.

Although Fury had charged Natasha, the one who had tricked the Trickster, with managing him as an asset, she really had nothing to report as of yet from their regular meetings. The so-called God of Chaos was a perfect gentleman. He was professional in all his interactions, polite, obsessively neat and clean, forthcoming with any needed information, arrived everywhere he was asked to attend on time, and was surprisingly introverted. Stark made sure that JARVIS kept a very close watch on their newest resident. So far, he had been … good … and showed no signs of the psychosis that had marked his last trip to Earth. Okay, there were little incidents such as long golden horns sprouting from one of Stark's suits and Thor's cape turning green, but New York was still intact and no alien armies had been sighted. Thor assured them that minor mischief was in fact "normal" behavior for his little brother and a very good sign. As far as Natasha was concerned, they could allow the God of Mischief a few tricks to keep his chaotic side occupied, especially if they happened at Stark's expense.

And that was when Natasha heard the scream – not an ordinary scream. It was a bone-chilling cry of agony and despair and fear. She was already drawing her firearm as she raced forward and kicked in the door to Loki's rooms. A slight jolt, like static, crackled through her as she sprang through the doorway, muzzle pointed ahead, scanning for trouble. There were no intruders, no one in danger, only one very distraught god writhing face down, screaming and sobbing as he clawed at the carpet.

"Loki!" she called out.

He lifted his head slightly at her voice; but his eyes were squeezed shut, the god lost in whatever terror gripped him. Natasha backed up as green magic sprang to life at his fingertips. She had no idea what he was experiencing or what spell he might call upon to defend himself.

"Loki!" she yelled more loudly.

Deep green eyes finally snapped open. Loki blinked, sobs quieting to harsh, ragged breaths as he sat up and looked around the room. His gaze landed on her still drawn firearm, and he quickly scooted away, backing into the wall and holding his hands up in surrender, chest heaving. Magic still pulsed at his fingers.

They stayed that way for a moment, Natasha now aware that Tchaikovsky - _Swan Lake_ \- was playing softly in the background. He had good taste, though she hadn't really figured Loki for a classical music aficionado. Then again, she could hardly compare him to Thor - they were polar opposites in many ways. At times, it was truly baffling to think that they had been raised by the same parents.

"Agent Romanoff," he voiced as eloquently as one could under the circumstances. "Did I cause you any harm?"

"No," she answered, realizing she still had a muzzle aimed at him. Not a good way to diffuse a tense situation. Natasha slid her firearm into its holster, and Loki slowly lowered his hands, magic dissipating. Keeping her movements slow, she cautiously neared the still wary god, crouching down in front of him gingerly to keep from aggravating her bruised side. "You okay?"

Of course he wasn't, but it still seemed the appropriate question to ask. In their interactions since his return to Earth, he was always composed and meticulously groomed, in complete mastery of himself. At the moment, he was a mess. Sweat-matted, tangled hair hung in his eyes. The deep green tunic he wore was crumpled and ripped at the bottom. But, his eyes betrayed the most. Usually sharp and clear, they were muddled with deep fear and bewilderment. He swallowed with tense throat movements as he gauged how to answer.

"Yes, I think I shall be fine," Loki answered quickly - too quickly - as he picked himself up off the floor and turned his back to her, running fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to smooth it down. Although he was trying to compose himself, the tremor in his hands betrayed the battle he was fighting to remain calm. Being caught in such a vulnerable state had to be unnerving. Natasha knew it would be for her. She truly wanted to give him privacy, but Fury had made it clear that any hint of instability in their new resident had to be evaluated immediately.

"Nightmare, I take it?" she tried. Thor was infuriatingly quiet about what had happened on Asgard before or after Loki invaded Earth. Fury had attempted to get Loki to talk to a counselor, but whatever transpired had sent the grizzled veteran fleeing from the room in anger. Having been called a "mewling quim" herself, Natasha could only imagine what words Loki's sharp tongue had used to lash out at the man. Thor had been livid after speaking with his brother, insisting that Loki had been properly counseled on Asgard and would no longer speak with SHIELD healers.

"Always the analyst," Loki hummed as he turned back around to face her. A smirk sharpened his features, mask falling firmly into place. Damn, she was going to have to work to get anything out of him. "From what Barton told me," he continued, "I would assume there are very few in this building who actually manage to sleep through the night."

"You are probably right," she said with a nod as she crossed her arms in front of her.

Loki surveyed the sitting room, frowning at the splintered coffee table. From the looks of it, he had drifted asleep while reading, falling from the sofa in the grips of his nightmare.

"I am sure Stark can get you a new table by tomorrow …"

"That won't be necessary." With a flick of his wrist, the table rebuilt itself. Loki retrieved a book from the floor and thoughtfully thumbed through it before placing an ornate bookmark in between the pages. Natasha noted that he took care to reverently place the book in a specific spot on the table. Apparently chaos could also suffer from OCD.

"Your door probably needs the same treatment," she said. "I thought you were being murdered or something worse and kicked it in ..."

"I beg your pardon, Agent Romanoff, but was there a reason you were coming to see me?" Loki asked with tense politeness as he surveyed the door. "My rooms are hardly on the way to yours." The door reassembled itself and snugged back into its hinges. Loki lingered with his hand pressed to the entrance as he whispered something and the door took on a momentary soft green glow.

"Fury has an artifact he would like you to look at – strange energy readings. It may be magical in nature." A calculated gaze slid to the case and he reached out toward her; it was obvious he wanted her to just hand it over and leave, but she did her best to level him with an unamused stare that said she was not going to budge on the issue. "I'll be honest. I am more concerned about your wellbeing at the moment … and we have discussed this before - it's Natasha."

"You can rest assured; I am not going to strike out at the populace of this fair city, Agent Romanoff," he murmured, still focusing intently on the case. Not really understanding how magic worked, she wondered if he could already sense something about it. "I am still in my right mind …"

"Does Thor know you're having nightmares?"

Loki bristled slightly and clenched his jaw. They all knew his relationship with Thor was complicated, and he definitely didn't seem to favor any allegation that he needed Thor to take care of him. Even bringing it up was akin to poking at a hornet's nest.

"Yes, but having lived on the same corridor as me for the better part of a millennium, he has managed to learn discretion and when not to pry …"

"You want to talk about it?" she tried bluntly. Subtlety was going nowhere.

"It's astonishing that you mortals truly think yourselves capable of understanding a being as old as I am?" Loki snapped back defensively. "I found Dr. Maxwell to be a waste of humanity, if you could even call him human."

"Yeah, he's a real prick," Natasha remarked. And truly, she would have loved to have been a fly on the wall to see what Loki had said to insult him. "But, you were the first to ever make him leave the room – quite a feat. Trust me ... we all cheered."

"Do you know that the first question he asked me was what it felt like to birth an eight-legged horse? Apparently he had not been properly briefed," Loki ground out.

"Oh my," Natasha murmured, choking to keep a laugh from bubbling out. Earth mythology concerning Loki, which it turned out was mostly untrue, was definitely on the list of subjects Thor had warned them to not bring up. It was a miracle Maxwell was still alive.

"So I questioned his credentials." At the devious chuckle that followed, Natasha decided that she definitely needed to see that recording. Maybe JARVIS could find it for her. "Though, I think my creativity in questioning his parentage may have been what truly angered him." His cool gaze fell on her again – calm, composed, dangerous. "So, Fury thinks you can do better, since you tamed me before?"

"Look, counseling is definitely not in my skill set. I am usually sent in to mess someone up - not fix them. My 'official' reason for being here is to deliver an artifact. I was only offering a listening ear, which is actually considered polite here on Earth," Natasha snapped. She was sore, tired, and trying to figure out who was crankier at the moment, Loki or her. "You don't have to live a thousand years to suffer … or did you forget all the red in my ledger that Clint so helpfully told you about me." Yes, she was still bitter that he apparently knew so much about her. Fueled by her own anger, the spy easily held his gaze, and he seemed genuinely impressed by her ire. "Even a pathetic mortal like me might just happen to know what it is like to be tortured to the point you wished you would die and to have your mind twisted and bent to someone else's will …"

"What has Thor told you?!" Loki demanded suddenly storming forward to tower over her, leaning in close enough that she could see rage and hurt seep into a hard emerald gaze.

"Nothing. He's just as stubborn as you are." Natasha replied curtly, resisting the urge to back away despite how close his face was to hers. "You may be able to fool everyone else with your masks, but you can't hide it from me. It takes one to know one. Someone unmade you, and to bring someone with your command and strength down, whatever they did had to be horrible."

"I apologize … I assumed …" he murmured. As though suddenly realizing their proximity, he straightened and took a decisive step backward before turning his back to her. Hands clenched and unclenched in an eerie reminder of the interrogation on the hellicarrier. "I find I am once again the outsider with Thor's new set of friends – different place, same situation. It puts me slightly on edge."

"Friends?" Natasha shook her head lightly and allowed herself to laugh out loud. "I think you were on to something when you called us lost creatures, Loki." The god turned back to face her, but didn't look up, casually tapping steepled fingers against his chin as he listened. "The Avengers may be allies, but we still barely know each other. I do consider Clint a friend. He's been my partner, had my back, made a different call, but not even he knows my whole story. The rest, including your brother, get … _my_ mask." She paused to give him a moment to process before driving home the point she needed to make more than any other. "One thing I can guarantee - I am the only one in this building or probably in your life who knows what it is like to have to learn to coexist with people who were once the enemy."

His eyes met hers in surprise, the briefest hint of vulnerability and pain returning. If that was the surface, he had to be drowning inside, haunted by demons that rivaled hers. She at first thought he would refuse the offer, knowing the simple question at the forefront of his thoughts – can I trust you? That simple question had dominated most of her life. Given what she knew of his strained relationship with his family, she wondered if there was actually anyone in his life he trusted. Possibly his mother, the queen, if she went by what little Thor had told her. They stood staring each other down, a silent battle of wills.

"Anyhow ... if you could take a look at the artifact. Director Fury has a bad feeling about it." The spy turned, hoping her apparent willingness to give him space would catch him off guard as she slowly made her way to the door.

"Wait." Natasha resisted the urge to smile in triumph as the god finally let out a resigned sigh. "Perhaps I could use company at the moment, if you are willing to stay. I find I don't wish to be alone after that particular nightmare." His voice was soft as though he were admitting a terrible and shameful secret. "And please forgive me for my lack of manners – my mother would be appalled. I have kept you standing here, tired and injured. In fact, please allow me to heal you."

"I am fine, Loki … the injuries are minor and will heal in a few days …"

"Nonsense, Agent Romanoff, you are heavily favoring your left side. Even the lightest of jabs to your ribs would double you over. It is foolish to suffer, when I can so easily heal it … and part of my rehabilitation is to help," the god insisted. "It's the least I could do to thank you for charging in to my rooms to defend me."

"Fine." She softly smiled at the brilliance of it, agreeing to admit weakness, but only in exchange for her acknowledgment of her own weakness. And, the thought of not having to wait to heal had some appeal. "What do I need to do?"

"Simply stand there."

Loki approached and stood facing her. Natasha was pleased to see that there was no sign of maniacal insanity, just exhaustion and pain. He lifted glowing green hands to either side of her head, and she tensed slightly.

"Worry not for your safety." The god tugged down his sleeves to remind her of the engraved bracelets around his wrists. According to Thor, the Allfather had crafted them to prevent Loki from using his magic to hurt any innocents. "I couldn't harm you even if I wished to do so."

Loki closed his eyes, his face relaxed, his very aura exuding poise and confidence. Natasha had noticed that he seemed most at peace when using his magic. His touch against the sides of her face was light and gentle, practically sensual. She felt a shiver of static run down her body, and after a few moments, the pain was gone.

"There," he said softly. "I am not as gifted in healing magic as Eir, or even my mother, but I can do a passable job."

"It felt like when I came through your door," she murmured. "You have a spell on your rooms?"

"You felt my wards," he answered. "Had you wished me harm, my magic would have cast you back into the hallway." The god motioned to an overstuffed armchair. "Please sit down. Can I offer you something to drink? I have tea … or water."

"Anything stronger?" she murmured under her breath, not intending for him to hear.

"I have bottles of a really good Elvish wine – from my uncle's vineyards." Damn Aesir, or Jotun hearing. "Though, don't tell Thor I have it. He has no appreciation for a good vintage and would only squander it. I also have a Dwarven homebrew. No … on second thought … that's a remarkably bad idea. There is really only one purpose for Dwarven alcohols. I was saving it for Thor's life day." Loki glanced at her worriedly. "Now that I think about it, I am not sure the effect even the wine would have on you. Perhaps I was wrong to offer it."

"I would love a glass," she replied. "Vodka was on my agenda, but I would have to drink enough to rot my stomach to even get woozy."

"If that is what you wish."

As Loki left to retrieve the wine, Natasha tried to contemplate how her evening had ended in her drinking with the God of Mischief. He returned, offering her a glass. She carefully took a sip. It was strong, but she figured she could handle the modest portion he had poured.

"This is really good," she said as he took a seat on the sofa across from her. "Are we drinking to something?" she hinted as she feigned innocence and casually flirted.

Loki frowned, setting his own glass of wine on the coffee table as he learned forward. "If you wish to have a real conversation and for me to bare my soul to you, then we have to resist doing what we both do best, Agent Romanoff."

"First, it's Natasha." She took a sip of her wine and shed that particular mask. There was something sincere and earnest in his eyes and it finally clicked for her. Loki wasn't offering information - he was offering honesty and friendship, but most importantly, trust. Falling into her skill set had become so natural, but she realized that she needed to be herself for this. "So, the Liesmith agrees to be truthful."

"And you agree to just listen and not manipulate, Lady Natasha."

"No, it's just Natasha," she corrected with a soft, genuine smile.

"Alright, no lies and manipulations … Just Natasha."

She leveled a stern gaze at him as his lips broke into a mischievous smile of his own - not the sharp smirks he favored. "You can be a real bastard you know."

"You have no idea," he replied. "Anyhow, as I was saying, I have no desire for subterfuge tonight … Natasha. I was not lying when I said that I didn't wish to be alone." Loki picked up his glass and drank deeply from it, finishing half of it. "Unfortunately, there are no happy memories to drink to tonight," he murmured softly. "There haven't been for quite a while. Not since before Thor's coronation."

"But Thor's not king yet."

"No, he's not. I'm afraid that's my fault."

Natasha listened, waiting for the story to begin. Suddenly, Loki's eyes widened then screwed shut tightly as he breathed out what could only be a string of curses in a language she didn't understand. The question was forming on her lips when he glanced up to the ceiling. "I hope you enjoyed this Stark. JARVIS, should your creator choose to review this surveillance, could you please impress upon him that I greatly enjoy my privacy and that if he breathes a word of this to anyone, I might have to test the limits of the Allfather's bindings."

"Yes, and also remind him that I am not bound by the Allfather and could kill him before he could even get a suit around his body," Natasha added sweetly.

"I will pass on your warnings to Sir," JARVIS answered.

Natasha returned her attention to Loki to find that the mage's eyes were shut. As he whispered soft words in yet another language, green magic shimmered around them in a bubble.

"What was that?"

"Privacy," he replied, swirling the contents of his glass before taking another healthy sip. "Stark is too nosy for his own good."

"So you used magic and JARVIS can't hear us now?"

"Yes," he replied proudly. "I could cast an illusion that would actually shield us from view as well, if you would like."

"No," she replied, filing the abilities away for future reference. If he could fool a system as sophisticated as JARVIS, it was very useful, and dangerous. "This is fine."

"So where to start," Loki murmured before the pair fell into an uncomfortable silence. "This is more difficult than I thought it would be, usually words are my strength. I can think of very few times in my life when I didn't know what to say."

"Thor said you received counseling on Asgard. This shouldn't be any different than talking to someone there."

"Oh, this is quite different from my experience on Asgard. In some ways that was easier." Loki seemed to steel himself. "You may have heard - I have a bit of a reputation for stretching the truth. The first week after Thor took me back to Asgard, Odin went into my mind so he could view and experience my memories." Loki nodded his head wistfully. "Memories don't lie."

"He forced you to ..."

"No, I allowed it," Loki replied quickly, raising a hand in a peaceful gesture to placate her sudden outrage. "If I had not, he would have had quite the battle."

"That's surprising to me that you let him," Natasha remarked. "I get the impression from Thor that things are a bit strained between you an Odin."

"Yes, well … he definitely wasn't my first choice, but even with me willingly submitting to the procedure, my magic would resist and protect me. There were only two powerful enough, and I have memories that would have been cruel to ask my mother to experience."

"One week, though. I'm surprised they didn't at least give you more time before trying something so drastic."

"That had been the plan," Loki said softly with a frown. He quickly drained the rest of his wine before meeting her gaze. "But I pushed Odin's hand when I tried to take my life … for the second time."

"Are you serious …"

"Shhh," Loki said softly, holding a finger up. "I fully intend to live … now. I went through Hel, but I have emerged ready to fight."

"I can't believe your own father sent you away when you were suicidal."

"He didn't send me away. Coming here was my idea, Natasha." Loki reached for the bottle of wine and refilled his glass. "You see, I have red in my ledger …"


	2. Chapter 2

Lucidh: Thanks for reading. Yes, there is a budding friendship going on here. Natasha is more than his match. I am sure they will get in a lot of trouble before this journey is over.

Guest: Thanks for reading. I do enjoy the Blackfrost pairing.

 **Trigger warnings: attempted suicide, mention of miscarriage**

 **Chapter 2**

 _Loki stirred in his sleep, greeted by the warmth and familiarity of a large bed draped in emerald and gold – his quarters, not his cell in Asgard's dungeons. Vestiges of powerful magic not his own still swirled through his body, but his own magic was sluggish, distant slipping through his fingers. The void… was this an illusion … was he a prisoner in his own mind again? Panic clawed at his chest and he tried to sit up only to struggle against unseen bindings. The god snarled like a trapped beast, breathing ragged as he tried in vain to sit up again._

" _Don't struggle, Loki, you will only open your wounds."_

 _The voice was soft and familiar, but held definite authority - Odin. Though he wanted to howl in rage at the indignity of being bound and helpless, he hadn't the energy to struggle anymore._

" _What have you done to my magic?" the prince asked._

" _It is there, just muted by that which saved your life." Sliding his eyes shut, Loki calmed himself and searched for it again, reveling in the comfort and warmth when he found it singing through his veins. "I am not so cruel as to sever you from it."_

" _Why am I bound?"_

" _You know the answer to that," Odin said gently. "I found you lying in a pool of your own blood. Had Heimdall not alerted me … had I not found you in time … we would have lost you again."_

" _Maybe that's what I wanted …"_

" _To make your mother suffer?"_

" _Her suffering would be far less had you allowed me the mercy of success," Loki replied bitterly. "She could mourn and be done with it."_

" _You are still not yourself, Son," Odin said with a sad smile._

" _I thought we had established that I am not your son," Loki spat out in disgust._

 _Odin pulled his chair closer to Loki's bedside and reached out to rest his hand on Loki's shoulder. "It is time we had the long overdue discussion we should have had in the vault had the Odinsleep not overtaken me."_

" _Fine, it is not as though I can leave," Loki sulked as he had when much younger. "Say what you must."_

" _It is true … I first took you as a war weary king, believing perhaps I could one day secure the throne of Jotunheim by returning a stolen prince to sit on it if needed to keep the peace."_

 _Loki felt his chest tighten, anxiety churning in his gut as he listened to his fear – the fear that had driven him to nearly destroy a realm – confirmed. So lost in his thoughts, he almost missed Odin say, "I did not lie to you when I said that those plans no longer matter."_

 _Loki glanced up at Odin, jaw still clenched, willing him to continue with a simple nod._

" _You were so small, weak from your abandonment, and hungry. But you knew the power of your voice even at that young age. I will never forget the sound of your cries and how they pierced straight through me." Odin smiled fondly. "Not knowing much about Jotun infants, I was concerned you might not even survive the trip through the Bifrost. One thing was certain. You needed immediate care and I called upon Frigga – she was the only one I could trust - until I decided what to do with you. Her pregnancy with Thor had been difficult, and the healers told me that he would likely be our only child. We were delighted when we found out she had conceived again, but with the strain of the war, it was not meant to be." Odin paused, the pain of the loss still evident even after centuries. "You were a balm to her grieving soul. She loved you fiercely from the moment I placed you in her arms, and I would have been blind to not see that you two were meant to be. Her love and joy were contagious, and from that moment, I have only seen you as my son."_

" _You have a peculiar way of showing it," Loki replied bitterly, fighting against the ache in his chest. As much as he tried to deny it, he had always known his mother loved him deeply. "You have always been harder on me. I have never felt like I had your approval."_

" _In retrospect, that was a failure on my part," Odin admitted. "Perhaps it is because I knew your burden will be heavier when I am gone and Thor rules Asgard."_

" _Why raise me to be a king – think like one, act like one – knowing it will never be?"_

 _Odin sighed deeply. "Thor is my firstborn. You have always known the throne would be his – and not because you are adopted. Even if you were my biological son, the throne would still fall to him. But, I equally know that Thor will never successfully rule Asgard without you at his side. You were both raised to be kings, because you will need each other."_

" _So, my destiny truly is to live in Thor's shadow and save him from himself?" Loki murmured dryly._

" _Thor has grown up, but he will never be the diplomat you are. There are situations in ruling that require a certain amount of …"_

" _Dishonesty?" Loki chuckled mirthlessly. "You condemn it yet desire it in me at the same time."_

" _I was going to say compromise. Thor sees things in black and white. You have a gift for walking the boundary between the two," Odin said softly. "But, that is not my concern now. You doubt our love, but then so blatantly test it. I do not think you intended to take your life."_

" _The wounds and blood loss say otherwise …"_

" _Loki, you are a master of magic and blades," Odin rebutted gently. "Had you wanted to end it quickly, before anyone could arrive, you would have."_

 _Oh how he wanted to deny it, but relief and warmth washed over Loki, flooding his very soul. It was Odin sitting by his bedside when he woke. Only Odin would have been able to get to him in time, and he had chosen to save him. That fact alone made him ready to live again._

" _It is not the first time you have called for my attention, I think." Odin leveled him with a stern gaze. "I watched events on Midgard very closely. If my younger son had truly set out to conquer Midgard, he would have taken his time, used guile and stratagem, and he would have succeeded."_

" _That was different," Loki murmured, knowing that what he said next would demand a response, a story he was not ready to tell, especially if Odin was the audience. "I invaded Midgard, yes, but I was not entirely in mastery of myself." Leave it there; make Odin draw it from him. Would he make the effort to find the truth?_

" _I do not expect your trust or honesty right now, but I must know what has happened to bring us to this point so that we can move on from here. My instinct tells me you have paid for any crimes in full, and then some, but only your memories will tell me." Loki felt his heart speed up, threatening to jump out of his chest. He had not considered this possibility – that Odin would drag it from him, that all would be laid bare before the one he had grown up calling father. "It is easier if you consent … I will have your mother do it."_

" _No," Loki said hurriedly. This was simpler, get it over. Odin would have to believe him. There was no way for memories to lie. "You do it. There are some things a mother should never see."_

" _And what about a father?"_

" _I would spare you if I could … Father," Loki whispered, aware that at some point a tear had begun to cut a path down his face. Another followed, and how he hated it. Damn sentiment. "But, there are some things a king must see."_

" _Very well," Odin said as he reached and gently wiped the tears from Loki's cheek, releasing the magical bindings that held his son. "Relax and attempt to not fight me."_

 _Loki reached up weakly and stilled his hands. "I warn you – you will find no comfort in what you see." He allowed Odin to rest his hand on his forehead._

" _No, I don't expect I will," Odin murmured, looking every one of his centuries. "But this is what healing requires."_

 _Loki closed his eyes and attempted to relax magic that was already stirring to defend against Odin's invasion into his mind._

Loki lifted his eyelids, frustrated by the betraying moisture in his eyes. The moment was in the past, but the emotion was raw and every bit as real as when he had lived it the first time mere months ago. Memories had flowed from son to father, spilling out a story of tragedy, angst and pain - nearly breaking the Allfather. It was as Loki had told Natasha, when he let go of Gungnir, he had meant to die, but instead had found that there are things worse than death.

His gaze drifted to the armchair where he was surprised to find Natasha Romanoff sound asleep. The god took a moment to observe her, never before having seen her so unguarded … so at peace. There was no denying she was a beautiful woman, her fury of red hair contrasting with the paleness of her skin. Perhaps if they had met under different circumstances he would have pursued her, his match in guile and cunning. Together, they would be quite the formidable force. In all his centuries, never before had a woman so completely captivated him. Of course, he hid it behind masks and walls. Loki sighed. It would be entirely improper to sit here and watch her for the remainder of the night, even if in appreciation. His mother would be appalled. He stood from the sofa, swaying slightly on his feet and grimaced at the ache that began to form in his head. His eyes fell to the empty wine bottle on the floor and its twin on the table. When had he opened a second? By the Norns, he had allowed himself to get drunk – not for the first time, hardly, but it had been some time since he had last overindulged.

Slowly making his way to the armchair, he gently shook Natasha by the shoulder, bracing in case he startled her and found a knife at his throat. "Agent Romanoff?" She let out a sigh, only shifting slightly in the chair.

She couldn't stay in the chair. Her head was bent to the side at an awkward angle which meant she would have quite the crick in her neck when she woke if her left her there. He tried shaking her again.

"Natasha?"

She mumbled something incoherent and sloppily pushed at his arm. Lovely … he had managed to intoxicate her as well. The proper thing to do would be to return her to her own quarters so she could sleep it off in comfort. However, there was no way he was walking through Stark's tower carrying her. Another wave of dizziness washed over him – teleporting was definitely out of the question. There was no telling where they might end up. Carefully lifting Natasha out of the chair, he shuffled down the hallway, stopping only once to press his back against the wall and steady himself. Once in his room, he laid her down on the bed before quickly pulling a blanket from the foot of the bed and spreading it over her.

Loki stopped at the closet in the adjoining room, rummaging through his potion making supplies until he found what he needed, glad he usually had it on hand for Thor. Returning to the kitchen, he put a kettle on to boil and poured some of the herbal mixture into a mug and waited for the kettle to steam before pouring hot water over the top. As he stirred, he touched a hand to the mug whispering a spell. Finally, he slowly sipped the potion, already feeling his mind begin to clear and the beginnings of his massive headache ebb away.

Sitting back down on the sofa, he slowly considered his evening as he continued to sip at the potion. What had he done? Told the Black Widow everything, that's what, and that was only what he remembered before his memories became fuzzy. He had not drunk that heavily since before Thor's coronation and the wine had gone straight to his head, he decided, loosening his tongue. He distinctly remembered feeling completely comfortable in her presence, as though he was seeing just a glimpse beneath her many masks for the first time. What was it about this mortal woman that made him trust her so when everything he knew about her screamed that he not? He had no answer for that.

Well, sleep was not going to come again tonight, not after two very remarkable and emotional dreams. He needed something to occupy his mind and draw it away from the churning in his gut that made him wonder where he stood with SHIELD after his confessions. His glance drifted to the case, abandoned by the side of the armchair, the reason Natasha had visited him in the first place. Deciding that Fury had wanted him to look at the object anyhow, he opened the case. It was a small pillar, not even the length of his forearm, made from a type of polished stone which glistened in even the dim lighting. There was a modest magical signature coming from the object, but nothing on par with Mjolnir or Gungnir, possibly more like the bracelets he wore around his wrists. The signature was incomplete, only part of a whole. The object yearned to be made complete and reached out toward his own magic.

Frigga had taught him a long time ago to take care with magical artifacts. He gathered his magic at his fingertips and made a barrier, a shield between him and the artifact before reaching into the case and removing the object. Expanding the magical shield, he placed the pillar on the floor and stepped around it, carefully surveying how it reacted to his presence. Curious, it no longer seemed interested in him, and its magical call seemed to extend past him now, streaming around him like a log in a river.

"You are unfamiliar to me as well. Our magic is different," he murmured to the object. "You are not of Yggdrasil, then?"

There were symbols – possibly runes, but none he had ever seen before – carved neatly into the stone. If he had a frame of reference for the symbols …

"JARVIS?" Though he had not utilized Stark's watchman, he understood that it was a source of indeterminate information.

"Yes, Mr. Odinson."

"I am still uncertain of how exactly Midgardian technology works, and I could use your assistance," the mage said. "I need information in order to study the origin of these symbols."

"I am able to capture images of the symbols and cross reference them with known languages of Earth."

"How long would that take?" Loki asked.

"I have completed my search," the AI announced.

"That is wonderful," Loki replied, delighted in the efficiency of Stark's creation.

"There is a tablet sitting next to the armchair. I will make certain that all relevant files are transferred."

Loki had seen the flat device there from the moment he had moved in, but had not paid it any attention. Gently, he picked the device up and touched the top. It lit up and he saw a page of information on Sino-Tibetan languages.

"Swipe your finger across the screen to see the next source."

"Thank you, JARVIS," Loki replied, sinking down on the armchair as he began to immerse himself into the information gathered.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, not at the moment," Loki murmured, already infatuated with the pursuit of new knowledge and unfamiliar magic. "This is more than sufficient."


	3. Chapter 3

Guest – I do enjoy Blackfrost as well. Loki and Natasha are a good match.

Bigred20 – Thank you for reading.

 **Chapter 3**

 _Natasha approached, flowing like liquid, light steps soundless against the floor. The spy paused, taking a moment to study her mark. The tall man paced the confines of his glass prison, restless like the caged tiger she remembered seeing at a zoo in Moscow when she was a child. They were the same in many ways - both dangerous predators waiting for a moment of weakness to strike._

" _There are not many people that can sneak up on me," he said with a smirk as he quickly turned to face her._

" _But you figured I'd come," she replied smoothly to cover her surprise. He shouldn't have known she was there … not until she wanted him to know._

" _After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate," he replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm._

 _He was mocking her. Barton would have, of course, told him about her skill set. She was anything but a soothing balm._

" _I want to know what you've done to Agent Barton," she demanded. Usually, she would be more subtle but time was of the essence._

" _ **Yes, it was all about Agent Barton,"**_ _a voice said from behind her._

 _Natasha turned, already defensive. She should have heard if someone were behind her. The widow paused in stunned silence at the sight of another Loki, now standing beside her. This Loki was calmer, more composed, and did not look like he wanted to murder anyone. This wasn't how the interrogation had gone at all._

" _ **What did you miss in your hurry to find your partner?"**_ _the new Loki admonished, nodding as though disappointed._ _ **"You were trained to see more than this."**_

 _Natasha glanced back to the memory and did 'see' more. A virtual laundry list: abnormal paleness - no sunlight, heavy dark circles under his eyes - exhaustion, thin to the point of gauntness - starvation, sweat-slicked hair - fever and dehydration, favoring his side - injury. He needed to sit when decorum dictated he make a power play by remaining standing. The Loki she had interrogated was weak. She should have recognized the signs of prolonged torture. God knows she had seen enough of it._

 _The scene shifted to the Battle of New York, Natasha fighting the unending onslaught of Chitauri troops. Suddenly, the new Loki was crouched beside her._

" _ **Is this how one conquers Midgard?"**_ _he asked accusingly._ _ **"You were trained to see more than this."**_

 _Natasha thought back to the battle. It had been befitting of the God of Chaos for that was what is was – no strategy. Destroying New York would not give him a throne on Earth – he had known that. It was as though he wanted to fail and draw as much attention to himself in the process._

 _Another shift, Loki crawled out of the hole he had made in Stark's floor, courtesy of the Hulk. The god looked like hell, beaten and bruised, but his eyes were different than when she interrogated him. There was relief. She thought she had only imagined it at the time, but it was there. He had gone willingly, cooperative then, not spitting venom at them even before Thor secured his mouth with a gag._

 _She had missed it all._

Natasha stirred from the dream, not really a nightmare, but disturbing nonetheless. Her surroundings were unfamiliar. For one, she was under an impossibly soft blanket, one that made her feel secure, like a child held protectively in her mother's arms. She hadn't felt this safe in a long time, in almost all of her memories, and it threatened to lull her back to sleep. The room smelled of old parchment and herbs, but clean and masculine – Loki. Immediately she sat up, too abruptly. It felt like Thor had hit her over the head with his hammer and she reached up to cover her eyes as a wave of nausea rushed over her. She held still until it passed, feeling Loki would probably not appreciate her vomiting in his room. So this was what it felt like to be hung over – a new experience for her certainly - how did Stark even function in life? Natasha sat still for a moment, collecting herself.

The part of her that was a spy couldn't help but to look around. Again, Loki was meticulously neat. Apparently Stark had needed to order extra bookcases, because that was what lined the walls of the room. The shelves were filled mostly with books. Some seemed to be ancient, hence the smell of old parchment. Other shelves held trinkets - probably artifacts older than her. She dared not touch anything. Natasha slipped from under the blanket and stood to her feet. A chill swept through her body and she lamented losing the warmth and security of the soft blanket; she grabbed it and pulled it around her shoulders as she exited the room to find her host.

Natasha expected to find him asleep on the couch – he had definitely consumed more wine than she had. She was surprised to see him seated on the floor a few feet away from the artifact Fury had given to her. Several old volumes were spread out in front of him. It was surreal to watch him read from a tablet while recording notes with an actual quill on a piece of parchment that floated in front of him. For a moment, she considered the possibility this was all still an Elven wine induced dream.

"There is a mug for you in the kitchen. Fill it with hot water and bring it to me."

Natasha did as instructed. Bruce's alter ego was using her brain for a punching bag and she didn't quite feel like talking or arguing at the moment. Loki stopped his study, whispering something under his breath as he took the mug in his hands and it glowed green.

"Drink up," he said. "Its taste leaves something to be desired, but you will feel remarkably better."

Natasha sipped the contents of the mug as she settled back on the sofa and watched him work. Her head began to clear up, but the hot beverage combined with the warmth of the blanket around her made her eyes grow heavy again.

"No, you may not have my blanket."

Natasha snapped awake. "You know, I think that is the best I have slept in years."

"I would hope so. The enchantment my mother put on it is strong."

"It's a security blanket?" Natasha smirked.

"She enchanted it for me while I was recovering, after my second attempt on my life," he replied, still intent on his work.

"You know, on Earth we would call you a mama's boy."

Loki stopped what he was writing and turned to look at the spy as he thought about the statement for a moment. "The sentiment is shared on Asgard."

"You don't feel the same conflict about her that you do about Odin or even Thor," Natasha observed.

"My brother has changed, and I am still sorting that out. Our relationship has always been conflicted, but I suppose that is to be expected. We are siblings. I am still very angry at Odin. He is my father and I love him, but I find it hard to forgive the hurt and lies at the moment." He sighed, a slight innocent smile that made him look much younger gracing his features. "How could I be angry with a woman who took in the child of her greatest enemy, an enemy who had tried to kill her husband? Mother raised me and loved me as her own, even favoring me over her own flesh and blood child at times. I have never doubted Frigga's love for me." His eyes narrowed. "Now please return my blanket to my room."

Natasha smirked again, but followed the request, even folding it and placing it neatly at the foot of the bed.

"Do you know what it is?" she asked as she returned to the living room.

"It is magical in nature, though not like my own. The text comes from what JARVIS tells me is a member of the Sino-Tibetan language family. I have been attempting to translate the runes, but what I have so far is cryptic."

"Like a riddle?"

"Perhaps," he murmured. "The most I know is that it is one of many, and could possibly open a portal."

"A portal?" she asked. "Like the one you opened?"

"I am not sure." Loki reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I need to translate and research more."

"You look tired," Natasha said. "How long have you been at this?"

"I am not sleepy, and it will taunt me as long as it is here."

Perfect, he sounded like Stark now. Just what she needed - another obsessed genius.

"Sometimes it is good to take a break and approach things with fresh eyes," she said in her most diplomatic voice. "Let's get you out of this room for a while - there's a cafe not far from the tower, great breakfast, amazing coffee. I need some decent food."

"My understanding was that Stark's wealth is immense," Loki said pointedly. "Is there no decent food in this tower?"

"Loki, you can't continue to live like a hermit."

"It suited me in Asgard."

"Did it really?" she asked.

Loki sighed, head bowing in defeat.

"Clean up and meet me on the main floor in 30 minutes."

"Must I really?" he protested.

"I will come drag you down there if you are a no show."

Natasha was surprised to find Loki waiting for her on the main floor thirty minutes later, prompt as usual. He was dressed in suit pants and a button up shirt. At least he had neglected to wear a tie and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, otherwise she might have felt underdressed in jeans and a light jacket.

"You're here," she remarked.

"I don't exactly recall having a choice," he answered. "Though, I'm not sure of your wisdom in taking me out in public. Someone may recognize me as the one who bid everyone kneel before him."

"You had that obnoxious helmet on; that's all anyone would recognize," she assured him as she led him out of the building and onto the bustling streets of Manhattan.

Loki seemed nervous, yet curious, as they made their way down the sidewalk, eyes darting back and forth taking in his surroundings. A lot of progress had been made, but the area around Stark Tower had far from completely recovered from the Chitauri invasion. There was a hint of guilt in the god's eyes, but she allowed him his space. Bringing up the astronomical price tag of damage done seemed counterproductive, especially after learning what he had suffered in the custody of the one he called 'The Other'.

"Here," she said, grabbing his arm to drag him into the small cafe.

After being seated at an outdoor table and ordering, Natasha surveyed the streets and alleyways around her location. Habits were hard to break, and she always felt more comfortable with a planned exit. She returned her attention to Loki, who was intently focused on a cellphone - the one both Stark and Fury had said should go with him if he ever left the tower.

"Please tell me you are not still working," she groaned. "You are supposed to be taking a break."

With a disgruntled sigh, Loki slid the phone back into the breast pocket of his coat just as their food was delivered. They began to eat in silence, Loki avoiding eye contact.

"You aren't saying much," Natasha commented finally, better able to think after starting her second cup of coffee.

"I must remind you that I am here against my will," he protested with a charming smirk.

"You were a much better conversationalist last night."

"I was also quite drunk," Loki hummed lightly.

"I am flattered you trusted me enough to let your guard down that much."

"Yes, quite foolish on my part." Loki sat his fork down and folded his hands on the table in front of him. "Norns help me – I don't even know everything I told you."

"You were very thorough."

"I'd rather not think about it." The god had very few tells, except clenching and wringing his hands when frustrated or nervous, which he was doing now. "It is disconcerting to feel so exposed."

"You trusted someone." Unsure why, she reached across the table and stilled his fidgeting hands with her own. "I know how hard that is."

"When will you share your findings with Director Fury?" he asked, finally meeting her eyes. Worry - a certainty that his trust would be betrayed - flooded those emerald depths. "I would like to be prepared for his questions."

"Fury will want to know that we talked - it will actually be good. But, he doesn't need to know details. I can keep it brief, clinical - an overview."

The change was instantaneous, his posture and breathing less tense, the hands beneath hers relaxing. Fury would be pissed, but Natasha knew if she broke Loki's trust, they would never be able to work with him.

"I thank you for any discretion you can extend," he said with a nod, offering the shy, real smile she remembered from the previous night.

"Why not keep the conversation going?" she said with a smirk, feeling a need to lighten the atmosphere. She pulled her hands away from his and leaned back in her chair. "How much will you question 'my' parentage if I ask you about the eight-legged horse?"

"You are infuriating," Loki replied with a playful, mock scowl. "I have no children … and most of Midgard's mythology was written by bards banished to Midgard who hated me because I played a part in seeing them banished."

"Imagine that."

"I did not give birth to Sleipnir – it was my mare. I did need to distract Svaðilfari, so I sent my mare out to lure him away. I may have used magic to make her more alluring, and Sleipnir was born. I am incredibly proud – he is the finest steed in all of Asgard. Odin claimed him almost immediately for his own."

"So you didn't father a wolf, a serpent, and the goddess of death?" He rolled his eyes in response. "But … what about Angrboða?"

"She was a Jotun witch, trying to incite war between the Aesir and the Vanir and damn near succeeding. I was scouting in the Iron Wood and encountered her …"

"You seduced her?"

"I seem to remember her seducing me … I was young … barely of age," he said softly, a slight blush staining his cheeks. "She wanted my magic; I needed information. With my reputation, being a spy was not difficult." He paused. "We were lovers, but she most assuredly did not bear me any children. Odin would have skinned me alive had that happened as any child of mine would have a claim on the throne."

"Sigyn – the Goddess of Fidelity?"

"Why does this seem like a jealous lover asking me of past flings?" Loki hummed. "Sigyn and I were betrothed, but I never touched her. Our parents thought the match would be good – noble blood, politics, and all. Sigyn loved another, but would have honored her parents' wishes even if it broke her heart." Loki paused, letting out a deep sigh. "I threw the fit, dishonored my house by rejecting her – it was believable coming from me and left her dignity intact. We remain friendly – only Sigyn, her husband, and I know that I never really despised her and they are grateful.

"Sounds lonely," Natasha murmured. "Have you ever actually been in love?"

"No … love is for children," he repeated her words. "But then, you would know … you have been in love, haven't you?"

"I can see Clint was thorough." Natasha nodded her head - she had started down this path of conversation. "I was married to a man named Alexei and yes, I did love him. Unfortunately, being a test pilot is a dangerous line of work. He died in an explosion. I grieved … they used his death in my training … it was part of what they used to twist me."

"I am sorry for your loss," he replied with genuine concern, reaching for her hand to comfort her. The tenderness of the gesture caught her off guard, and she was glad that her cell phone began to ring. "I need to take this," she said, looking down at the number - strange, it was a dummy account set up from her last mission.

Natasha stepped out to the street and then around into a small alleyway. "Hello," she answered. There was no response. She disconnected the call and turned back to the street again when someone approached.

"Agent Romanoff … no sudden movements. My snipers might panic and assume you are being less than cooperative. I have no doubt you would survive, but there are many … vulnerable civilians in the café and on the street who might not be so lucky." The man, Durov she remembered, wore a kindly smile and spoke with a heavy Russian accent to his English. "We will need your weapons of course."

Another man was already taking the liberty of removing her concealed knives and two firearms.

"Yegor Kiriyev sent me. He just wants to talk to you."

"You have my attention." From her spot in the alley, she could barely see where Loki sat at their table, absorbed in something on his damned cell phone again.

"Who is the man with you?" Durov asked, noticing the object of her attention.

"You actually interrupted a date," she replied smoothly. "A civilian … if I don't return shortly, he will probably do something stupid like call the police.

"A date?" he asked skeptically. "Go greet him as your lover; tell him you are leaving and he is to come with you."

Natasha went back into the café, hoping Loki could pick up cues as they went along. If this was going where she thought it was, his help would be nice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

" _Go greet him as your lover - that's just perfect,_ " Natasha thought to herself. There were so many ways this could go wrong. _"Here goes nothing."_

Natasha walked up behind Loki, slipping her arms gently around his neck as she pressed a light kiss to the side of his face. "Lucas," she whispered, using SHIELD's agreed upon alias. He imperceptibly tensed, before bringing a hand up to stroke her arm as he smiled.

"Is everything alright, Darling." He smiled, reaching out to finger a red curl, flirting with her as he made eye contact.

"I am ready to go," she replied.

Loki pushed his chair away from the table. She thought he would get up, but instead, he pulled her into his lap. "Something's wrong," he tried, his brows furrowing into a frown as he probed for an explanation of her strange behavior.

"You're ignoring me with work again," she pouted. "I just want to go."

"My apologies." He turned off the screen before pressing a gentle, completely believable kiss, soft and warm, to her lips. "Your wish is my command."

Natasha stood, feeling warm and fuzzy. She had not expected such a gentle gesture. It was as though he had been waiting for permission to kiss her and had eagerly taken the opportunity. Loki slid the phone into his pocket and then wrapped an arm around her, holding her smaller form against his as they walked out of the café and into the adjoining alleyway. As they rounded the corner where a van was now waiting, rough hands grabbed the pair. Durov shoved Loki face first into the wall and pressed the muzzle of a pistol into the back of his head.

"What's your name?" he demanded

Natasha tensed, waiting for an eruption of green magic from a very angry God of Mischief. She had to admit that it would be highly amusing, but thankfully, Loki continued to play his part.

"Natalie?" his voice stuttered. Damn, he was good. He actually sounded terrified.

"Answer the question!"

"Get them into the van," a man yelled in Russian from the driver's side of a van. "We don't want to make a scene."

The pair climbed into the van at gunpoint. Loki glanced at Natasha as the door slid shut, and she offered a negative nod to keep him from reacting.

"Now, we try again." Durov said. "What is your name?"

"Lu … Lucas Laufeyson," Loki babbled. "Take my wallet, my phone, me even - just don't hurt Natalie."

"What is it you do, Mr. Laufeyson?"

Durov removed his phone and wallet from his pockets and looked through the driver's licence and credit cards supplied by SHIELD, all under the name of Lucas Laufeyson.

"I'm a consultant … ancient languages. I am translating an artifact for a client right now … Sino-Tibetan runes …. on my phone if you wish to see … really quite fascinating …"

"Okay, enough," Durov barked. "How did you meet 'Natalie'?"

"Natalie?" Loki glanced at her, a small innocent smile twisting his lips. He looked completely in love with her. "She interviewed me for a contract - actually, it was more of an interrogation than an interview." Natasha choked to hold back a bark of laughter. "I got the job, of course. She asked me out to lunch nearly a year later, drawing me reluctantly away from my work, but I suppose it was beneficial in the long run that I went with her."

Durov looked at Natasha, rolling his eyes, before speaking to her in Russian. "He has no clue, does he?"

"No," she responded in Russian.

"If you cooperate, maybe Kiriyev won't hurt him," he continued in Russian. Natasha nodded in return. "I will leave you to think about that."

Durov got out of the van, leaving three of his lackeys with guns trained on the pair. The van started up and rumbled out of the alley before pulling into traffic. After a moment, Loki whispered something under his breath then laughed out loud. Natasha shot him an irritated glance.

"Relax, Darling," Loki practically purred. "They can't hear us and all they see is a very distraught man holding the love of his life. Now perhaps you can enlighten me … did you truly ask me to breakfast or was it just an elaborate ruse to get me to participate in this mission ..."

"Believe me, all I wanted was food and maybe conversation," Natasha interrupted. " I thought I left these thugs behind in Kiev. I usually don't have to worry about being jumped so close to the tower."

"So I assume you want to see where their base of operations is, and that is why we are going along with this charade," Loki prompted.

"Yes."

"A familiar strategy … I may have seen it before … allowing oneself to be captured in order to compromise the enemy's lair."

Natasha laughed and rolled her eyes at Loki.

Suddenly, in the distance, Loki heard thunder on what was an otherwise a clear and sunny day. "Damn," he murmured, glancing up. "Heimdall, I insist you tell Thor that I am not in any danger and that his intrusion in this matter may greatly jeopardize Lady Natasha's mission." The next thing they heard was the distinctive rumbling of the Bifrost tearing open the sky in the distance. "I hope he listens," Loki murmured.

"Or at least gives us enough time?" she added. Subtlety was not one of Thor's strengths.

"I have questions," Loki said, glancing at her. "What is our objective and what is the appropriate amount of force to use once we arrive?"

"I need answers from a man named Yegor Kiriyev, gray hair, beard. I need to know why he risked setting foot in New York. The rest … if they attack, feel free to use whatever force is needed. They will be trying to kill us, after all."

A small, wicked looking dagger materialized in his hand, and he looked the blade over. "I'm jealous," she whispered. He smiled and handed her the knife to conceal.

"I have others," he replied as the van came to a halt. "So, " he sighed. "Spare the one that looks like Odin and show no mercy to the rest. I think I can handle this. I will wait for your signal."

The door to the van opened and Durov motioned with a pistol. "Alright, let's go." Loki jumped from the back of the van, turning to take Natasha's hand and help her down, still playing his part. She knew he was dissecting every detail of his surroundings, yet still managed to look absolutely terrified. They entered a warehouse and were led upstairs to an open area where two chairs were waiting. The spy and god allowed themselves to be bound; then, the one with grey hair and beard, Kiriyev, approached Natasha.

"You eluded me in Kiev." A hand sharply struck her across the face. "But, I finally have captured the famous Black Widow."

"Natalie … what is he talking about?" Loki asked with heightened alarm in his voice.

"Silence," Kiriyev said, smiling as he turned his attention to Loki. "They tell me that Mr. Laufeyson here is dear to you." He pulled out a pistol and chambered a round. "I expect you to answer my questions."

"I will cooperate," Natasha replied, sounding resigned and defeated.

"Now, why were you in Kiev?"

"I was following a stolen shipment of missiles. Our intelligence said they were going to a man named, Dima Vasiliev ..."

"You lie," Kiriyev interrupted. The Russian grabbed Loki's hair and used it to pull his head back so that he could press the muzzle of a pistol to the side of the god's head. "I have been careful to not use that alias in Kiev."

So, Kiriyev was Vasiliev. That solved one mystery and made it all the more important to capture him. He knew more than she could tease out of him under the circumstances. "Are you good to go, Love?" Natasha asked Loki.

"I am way ahead of you, Darling." The response came as Natasha felt the ropes binding her wrists cut behind her.

Kiriyev fired off a shot, the illusion of Loki vanishing as two daggers fired off with a burst of green, embedding themselves in the necks of the men to either side of him. Natasha rolled before he could fire at her. Springing to her feet, she attempted to find her place in the maelstrom that was Loki. He was a blur of emerald energy, fast with those knives, already taking down two more men before Natasha could even get her bearings.

Another lunged at her, Natasha used his arm to swing up and wrap her thighs around his neck, pulling him down to slam his head to the ground. At the same time, she lifted his gun, firing a shot off to another approaching guard.

"Kiriyev made a run for it" she yelled out to Loki.

"I'll find him," Loki called back before disappearing in a flash of green.

Five more guards flooded into the space. Natasha picked up a gun and one of Loki's dagger, but stopped her assault when a familiar shield flew by, slamming into two of them.

"There's a helicopter approaching on the upper level," Captain Rogers called out.

"I can't let Kiriyev escape …"

Natasha was cut off as Loki appeared, threw an arm around her, and suddenly she was stumbling on the roof, dizzy from the abrupt transport. A shot rang out and Loki spun her around, the bullet bouncing harmlessly off his back - when had he put on armor?

Loki went to throw a knife, pausing as Mjolnir flew by and splintered the blades of the helicopter. Kiriyev fired another round at Loki, hitting him dead in the chest with each shot. Yet another illusion vanished, and the god was standing behind Kiriyev, dagger to his throat.

"You only live because she needs you alive," Loki hissed as he pushed the Russian over to where Natasha was waiting.

"Brother!"

Loki groaned as Thor approached and clasped his shoulder.

"Heimdall was to relay to you that we were well."

"Aye, he did, but I was excited to see you as part of the team. It's been so long since I fought at your side."

"I am not part of the team, Thor," Loki grmbled, armor fading back into the clothing he had worn to breakfast. "I just happened to be with Agent Romanoff." Loki glanced at Natasha. "She needed my help."

"Fury wants to talk to you," Rogers said to Natasha. "Quinjet's waiting for you to take Kiriyev in."

"Do you want to come with me?" Natasha asked Loki. "You helped take him down."

"If it is not crucial, I think I will return to the tower," the god replied, obviously uncomfortable with the extra attention. "I would like to make more progress on the artifact."

"Okay, I will check in later."

"Brother …"

"Later, Thor," Loki snipped as he blinked from existence, teleporting back to the safety of his rooms, Natasha assumed.

"Give him time, Thor," Natasha told the bewildered Norse god.

"I apologize - we missed that Kiriyev was on the move," Fury said as Natasha entered his office.

"I'm glad he's in custody - maybe we can get some of these arms off the black market."

Fury pinned her down with his uncovered eye. "I'm impressed - you got Loki out of the tower. Care to share anything?"

"I was able to establish some trust … we talked."

Apparently her body language conveyed she wasn't going to share much. "Anything I should know about?" Fury asked.

"He was definitely under duress when he came for the Tesseract - much worse than we could have imagined." In truth, his descriptions of what had been done by the Other still rattled her. "I would have broke," she offered. "But, he continued to fight it even while he was here."

"And now?"

"He's stable," Natasha told him. "I don't think we have anything to worry about from him."

"So, you've seen him in action now," Fury continued, leaning back in his chair. "Tell me about his skill set."

"I don't know where to start," Natasha said with a dry laugh. "He's a natural as a spy, followed my lead on the fly and fell right into his part."

"Combat?"

"Nothing brash like Thor - fast, deadly, surgical," she said. "I couldn't keep track of him, and I don't think I've seen even half of his magical abilities. He can actually teleport from one location to another. It is glaringly obvious now that he wasn't even trying when he attacked New York."

"Do you trust him?"

"After our talk last night - after today … absolutely," she replied.

"Let him finish with the artifact - keep talking, gauge his interest." Natasha stood, nodding an affirmative. "Barton was your partner for a long time, and I know he's irreplaceable. But, I don't like you out there without backup."

The room used by the Avengers for training was blessedly empty this late at night. Loki hoped he would not be interrupted. Although he was accomplished in magic and combat, both still required practice. Between the titan's 'hospitality' and Asgard's dungeons, he had trained very little. It had felt good today to stretch his magic and let his blades fly, and with such a worthy companion. After conjuring and throwing daggers for a while, he sat down on the floor in the middle of the room.

Loki's seidr glowed green and then spread out from him, trees rising from a carpet of green grass to a sunny cloudless sky. He turned his head, stretching the illusion to form a small ivy-covered terrace. Frigga sat in her favorite chair, weaving at her loom. She lifted a hand to wave at him, a bright smile creasing her eyes as it always did when she saw him.

"This place is beautiful."

The illusion flickered, surprise straining his concentration for just a moment. Loki doubted Natasha even noticed.

"It's my mother's garden," he replied, not bothering to disguise the fondness in his voice. "I came here often on Asgard, when I wasn't in the library. I practiced a lot of magic here, especially as a young child."

"I didn't mean to intrude," Natasha said softly. "I will leave you to your mother's garden."

"You are not intruding," Loki replied. "I did not expect to find anyone here in the middle of the night."

"I couldn't sleep - still a bit jet-lagged from Kiev." The garden faded away to the barren walls of the training room. "Would you show me somewhere else?"

Loki thought for a moment, then magic surged out from him again, bathing the floor and walls in glimmering gold, pillars rising to vaulted, muraled ceilings. In front of them stood the throne of Asgard, in all its splendid glory. Natasha's eyes lit up in delight, a soft awestruck smile creasing her features. Loki felt like he would conjure anything to see that smile again. She approached one of the pillars and touched it, her hands passing through it.

"It is only a simple illusion," he told her. "A memory, really."

"But you can make an illusion solid - that's what you did today when Kiriyev had a gun to your head?"

"Yes," Loki replied, or at least a Loki that appeared behind her. Natasha whirled around to face it. "It requires more complex magic and concentration," the double said as it picked her hand up to show her it was more solid. "But, I seldom have need of anything that elaborate. A simple illusion is usually enough. And besides," he stood up from his spot on the ground and twenty different Loki's appeared across the room. "I can create more illusions, when details are not as pressing. Can you figure out which is the real me?"

"Of course, you are standing right there."

She reached to tag him, but her hand passed right through, dissipating the double. All the Loki's laughed lightly in unison. One by one they faded, Natasha whirling around to find the real Loki standing directly behind her.

"Shall I test your mettle?"

"I am hardly a match for a god," she replied.

"Training outside our strengths, with different partners pushes us," he said with a smirk. "I have often sparred with Thor, without my magic, simply because he is stronger than I am."

"How's that usually work out for you?"

"Not well," he admitted. "But, I learn a lot."

"So, hand-to-hand combat, no weapons, no magic?" she asked. "I still think you have a distinct advantage. I at least want my widow's bites."

"Very well."

The pair stepped to the center of the mat, both circling each other as they studied the opponent. Natasha attacked first, Loki easily sidestepping the advance. He whirled around to attack, but Natasha dropped to the ground, sweeping his feet out from under him with her leg. The god fell back, but rolled and quickly sprang to his feet. Both assailants exchanged jabs until Loki knocked her to the mat and pinned her by the neck. Her eyes widened in fear, lips trembling, and he eased up on his grip.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?"

To his surprise, Natasha smiled and abruptly launched him over her head with her legs. He landed with a thud. "I can't believe I fell for that," he groaned.

"Well, at least chivalry isn't dead in Asgard," she said, springing forward and trying to pin him.

The game continued, each exchanging jabs and kicks until Natasha took Loki by surprise, grasping his wrists and throwing her whole weight against his body. They toppled over with the momentum, Natasha jolting his body with electricity from her widow's bites as he fell to the ground flat on his back. Hands still around his wrists, she straddled his body to pin him to the ground.

"Stay down," she growled, leaning in close to his face. Her eyes were lit with determination and her cheeks reddened from exertion. Despite her sweat-drenched hair, she was beautiful.

Though Loki could have easily thrown her, they froze that way for a moment, both suddenly aware of their proximity and position but neither moving to do anything about it. They were close, so close, they were breathing the same air. Loki knew he needed to move, needed to break her spell and remove himself from such a compromising position. The mage began reciting the recipe for a sleeping draught in his mind to maintain focus but stumbled over the ingredients, highly aware that if he were just a little closer their lips would meet in a kiss every bit as sweet as the one he had stolen earlier in the day. Loki lifted his head, realizing Natasha was leaning in closer as well. Her hands slid upward from his wrists, fingers threading with his as he gently brushed his lips against hers.

"Brother?" came Thor's hesitant voice from across the room.

Well, that definitely broke the spell.

"The Norns hate me," Loki whispered breathlessly against Natasha's lips as he disappeared from beneath her, teleporting back to his rooms.


End file.
